Author's note: okay, Buffy and Spike are taking a pretty roundabout way of Europe so pardon me- i want Buffy to see EVERYTHING. hahaha bring on the reveiws people! you lurkers! come out of the woodwork!

Chapter VII - Belgium: A New Meaning to Getting a Room

"We have to share a room?" Buffy demanded.

Spike rolled his eyes. It was dusk and they had just pulled into a hostel at Buffy's insistence. For the last few weeks, their schedule had been erratic, mostly they drove in the day times walking thought streets at night enjoying the nightlife. Buffy took in the sights, and Spike tried not to get bored, walking behind her. all in all, they didn't talk about Sunnydale, it had been a month, and it was still there, hovering like a thunder cloud, ready to open up and start pouring.

"Yes, slayer," he said tiredly, fighting the urge to run a hand though his hair. He didn't want William's poncy curls to come shining though yet again. "We are sharing a room." he crossed his arms and then added off her look. "Bloody hell, slayer it's not as this is all my fault."

Buffy glared at him, it was very obvious whose fault her though this was.

"You were the one who stopped here!" she snapped. "Mister," she paused here and made her voice go as low as she could make it. "Oh don't worry, slayer, its not going to be that bloody bad."

Spike arched an eyebrow.

"As oppose to-" he took a deep breath and pitched his voice several octaves higher in a startlingly accurate portrayal of her voice. "Spiiiiiiike! We have to stop here or else I'm going to die! I can't stay in this car with YOU anymore!

Buffy stared at him.

"Okay, that was scary."

Spike smirked.

"I'm the big bad." he reminded her.

"So?"

"Scary's my job, you bint."

He led her down the carpeted hall and into the room that they had to be sharing. He could feel all the while that Buffy was glaring daggers into his back. This of course, just made him smile.

"At least we've got twin beds." he said as he opened the door, "not that I wouldn't mind sharing." his smirk returned and he didn't have to turn around to know that she was now making staking motions over where his heart is supposed to be.

"Just shut up, will you?" Buffy snapped. "I actually need my beauty rest." she pushed passed him and marched up to one of the beds. The one closest to the window. "And close the door behind you."

Spike complied looking on with amusement as she stomped around the room readying herself for bed. She had even switched off the lights without notifying him; the abrupt change in lighting would have rendered him blind for a few moments had he not been a vampire.

"Bint." he muttered under his breath. He walked passed Buffy, up to the window and lit a cigarette, sucking down the nicotine enriched smoke for a few minutes looking out into the clear Belgian night.

After that, he decided that he might as well get some rest also so he put out the smoldering butt and got into his own bed. he figured, frightfully so, that she would not appreciate him sleeping raw so he kept his clothes on and thanked who ever was listening that they were only going to have to share room for one night.

Sleep came to him quickly, and somewhere at the back of his mind he was glad that he did not dream. Perhaps if he did, he would not have awakened a few hours later to the tossing and turning of the girl beside him.

Spike had always been a marginally light sleeper, and at the first groan that escaped Buffy's lips he was wide awake.

"Keep it down, will you, slayer?" he hissed.

She seemed to pay him no mind tossing and turning and groaning louder. Finally, Spike got up ready to scold her for waking him up. All of this vanished when he saw why she had been tossing and turning.

He had kind of figured that she was wanking, but it seemed he was wrong.

She was on her bed her face distorted with anguish, her arms and legs flailing, trying to defend herself with an unseen adversary. He threw aside his covers and got up, padding silently over to where Buffy lay. He leaned in to get a closer look. Her flailing got even worse and she very nearly reached out to strike him, but he caught her hand.

As soon as he did that, she relaxed slightly.

"Well, that's a rub." he murmured to himself.

She tightened her grip on him and relaxed, when she had quieted down enough he began to pull away, inching her hand off of his wrist. Unfortunately, she soon as he broke the contact between them, she began to whimper and struggle again.

"Bloody hell, slayer." he muttered. He reached over and grabbed her hand squeezed it tightly.

Again, she quieted, settling back down in to a more or less peaceful slumber. He couldn't say that he wasn't surprised, she was the slayer, after all, and she seemed to be taking too much comfort out of his touch.

"slayer." he said shaking his head.

Buffy jerked awake.

"What happened?" she asked looking disoriented. She wanted to know what Spike was doing in her hotel room. it was only a few seconds later that she realized that she and Spike were sharing a room.

"You had a nightmare." he said simply.

She sighed and looked down. They were silent for a while. Just sitting there staring at each other like idiots. Spike realized a second too late that he still has his hand clasped around her wrist. He let it drop. Buffy folded her hands together in her lap and stared at them. She was wondering why she hadn't even noticed that Spike was touching her. Alarm bells should have gone of in her head, but they were dead. Just like her insides. Just like her feelings. Everything about her was dead, save her dreams. She was painfully alive in her dreams.

Spike studied her intently. she looked like she was about to cry, in fact he was sure beyond all measurable doubt that she was just about to cry. Thing was, she was fighting it, pushing her tears back with all her might because she did not want to cry in front of him.

Bloody slayers and their pride.

He rolled his eyes and picked her up.

She squealed.

"Spike, what the hell do you think you are doing?" she snapped.

He didn't stop he just dropped her on his bed and got in after her.

"Spike! Stop being such a damn Neanderthal!" she complained loudly. Slapping him none too gently. "You can't just grab me and throw me over your shoulder and expect me to-"she just realized he was getting in after her. "Spike what the hell do you think you are doing?"

Spike sighed.

"Something that I should have done a long time ago." he said. "Listen to me, slayer, like it or not, I'm all you've got," he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"And why are you 'helping' me?" she asked, still suspicious, "helping being the operative word."

"Because the door wings both ways, pet." he said simply. "And I am not going to let you waste away, your night terrors be damned."

His hold suddenly became gentle.

"I was losing you, pet." he said simply. "Slowly and surely. I need you to be here and not this broken shell of Buffy," he paused here, but continued before she could say anything. "And it'll take time to heal, I get that. But to be on your way there, you need your sleep."

He didn't say anything after that. He reached over and switched of the light leaving the room in darkness. Spike wasted no time in pulling her close to him. Buffy's first thought was of doubt that she was ever going to sleep, the next thought she had was how and when did it suddenly become morning.

And that was when it hit her, it was the first time since they had left Sunnydale that she had slept though the night, and the first time she had gone with out dreams.